


The Prince's Boots

by Mizufae, psmithery



Series: The Prince [4]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, Frottage, Homophobia, M/M, Modern Era, Smut, Voyeurism, foot job
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-26
Updated: 2011-05-26
Packaged: 2017-10-19 19:19:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/204337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mizufae/pseuds/Mizufae, https://archiveofourown.org/users/psmithery/pseuds/psmithery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur and Merlin have a movie night with their mates. Merlin gets stroppy, Arthur gets <s>handsy</s> footsie, Percy is completely impassioned and Leon is completely embarrassing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Prince's Boots

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: very minor references to Nick Frost/Simon Pegg RPS, some scenes which could be read as containing dubious consent, voyeurism and homophobic slurs.
> 
> Also posted [here](http://mintandhoney.livejournal.com/2288.html) on livejournal.

From: ponderoustibbons@gmail.com  
To: supermeowpants@gmail.com  
Date: Sat, 26 March, 2011  
Subject: FML WHERE IS MY INHALER

Hi Freya! Sorry I haven’t gotten back to you this past month, things have been a bit nuts. Nothing really bad, you know, but just really weird. ::shrug::

How’re things in Boston? Are you still volunteering at the MSPCA? I completely bombed that chem test I was so “prepared” for.

ANYWAY, ENOUGH SMALL TALK. I CAN’T HANDLE THIS ANY MORE.

So you know how Arthur and I, we do that Friday night thing every week and god, I have to tell you, it’s been eating me ALIVE, but three weeks ago... you know how there were always these gay jokes about us and everyone always calls us married and shit?

So we might be like kind of gay for each other and you’re the only one I thought I could tell because right, I cant tell my MUM CAN YOU EVEN IMAGINE??? So I guess you can feel vindicated, because Arthur evidently WAS jealous like a jealous thing when he hated you.

OH GOD WHAT DO I DO  
~Merlin

* * *

From: supermeowpants@gmail.com  
To: ponderoustibbons@gmail.com  
Date: Sun, 27 March, 2011  
Subject: RE: FML WHERE IS MY INHALER

OMG DEETS. I DEMAND DEETS. CAN I BE LIKE, YOUR FAGHAG??!?!?! I FUCKING TOLD YOU SO. GOD. OH MY GOD TELL ME EEEEEVERYTHING.

-Freya

* * *

From: ponderoustibbons@gmail.com  
To: supermeowpants@gmail.com  
Date: Mon, 28 March, 2011  
Subject: if only I were Welsh

I don’t think I could tell you details because it’s all kind of hazy. So, we watched some porn together about a month ago and, well, sort of helped each other out a bit, if you catch my drift. And I think we nearly kissed and it was all weird afterwards, but the next morning it was fine. Then at school he started being all awkward and stand-offish and it went on for three fucking weeks.

Anyway, we sorted it out on Friday night, and we did kiss then and it was really fucking good. Like, better than it was with you (no offense or anything) and he was really getting into it and stuff. But then in the morning he kept going on about how awesome ‘our arrangement’ is and I dunno - does he think we’re boyfriends now? Or just fuck buddies? Cos I don’t think fuck buddies are supposed to hold hands under the table at lunch. I was still half asleep when he mentioned it, and I hadn’t had a cup of tea, so I wasn’t exactly capable of speech or anything. It’s just all fucked up, he keeps being all matey with me and then he turns around and makes me sandwiches without tomatoes even though he loves them. I know he used to do it all the time, but I can’t help wondering if it’s more than just fucking around.

Eg. He fucking squeezed my knee in class today and did the whole leg-strokey thing that he used to do with those slags he used to date, and then he demanded I “give us a kiss” before he let me have the aforementioned tomato-free sandwich, and you know what I’m like when I’m hungry, which, btw continues to be ALL THE TIME.

Ugh Freya, things were a lot easier when all I wanted to do was grab your tits.

No, you may not be my faghag and you aren’t going to see me wearing poncy scarves all of a sudden either so STOP THINKING ABOUT IT RIGHT NOW.

I was supposed to be your British friend, not your gay British friend. I’m a walking stereotype. This is a tragedy.

Pip pip cheerio  
~Merlin

* * *

From: supermeowpants@gmail.com  
To: ponderoustibbons@gmail.com  
Date: Mon, 28 March, 2011  
Ssubject: RE: if only I were Welsh

ARRANGEMENT? Merlin BB I don’t think that means what you think it means. I remember Arthur and I remember the thing I thought most about him was that he was... what did you call it? A prat. Anyway he is a JERKWAD. I mean he’s sweet and all but I don’t think that guy has two braincells to rub together. You need to figure out what he meant before you do anything else.

When you come to MA to visit me, we will go shopping and I will make you give me fashion commentary and then we can pick up boys together. EXCEPT THEN YOU WILL BE CHEATING ON ARTHUR BECAUSE YOU ARE PERFECT FOR EACH OTHER BECAUSE YOU ARE ALSO A JERKWAD! you jerkwad.

You have to keep me updated! I want to know EVERYTHING. I will be highly discrete but only if you give me a steady supply of info.

democracy and guns for everyone  
-Freya

* * *

 _Friday April 15th, 2011_

Arthur’s house felt even emptier than usual before all their friends trouped in. Merlin hadn’t been back there for nearly two weeks – the last time he had, Arthur had made him come in his pants before they’d even left the foyer, so they went to Merlin's house instead. But Percy had demanded that they have a movie night and it wasn’t like Arthur would rub him off in front of everyone, so he figured it would be okay.

He’d shown up early and hung around with a surprisingly subdued Arthur for a while before the lads arrived. They ordered pizza and ate it out on the lawn, enjoying a rare warm spring evening. He didn’t bother to follow his friends to the kitchen for a snack-run when they eventually went inside, and instead quickly divested himself of his uniform in Arthur’s room, putting on a pair of Arthur’s flannel pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt from his brief stint in chess club three years ago. It only made sense, after all, considering they were all going to stay the night. Leon, being the only one among them who was old enough to buy booze, supplied the beer. When Merlin got back, he found them already situated in the living room.

“Beer!” Gwaine plonked himself down on a couch and held his hand out. “Oh come on Leon, stop texting your mum and give me a fucking beer, yeah?”

“I’m not – oh fuck off and have your fucking beer you lush.”

“Percy, mate, I was supposed to be meeting a seriously fit bird at the Plow tonight. Why did you force us to do this again?”

“You’re all bastards, ‘swhy.”

Arthur piped up. “Nah it’s ‘cause he was so lonely last week when everyone and their mum had dates.”

“You and Merlin didn’t have dates,” Lance pointed out.

Merlin thought fast. “Yeah, but I had to keep him from drowning in the pool like I always do on Fridays.”

“Right. So tonight we’re all here to keep the hyperactive git from offing himself in an incredibly embarrassing fashion, and also there is beer,” Percy said. He dug out the DVDs and put them on the table with a flourish.

“What’s with you and Simon Pegg anyway?”

“He’s fucking hilarious, mate.”

“Clearly you are incredi-gay for him. You want his gingery pubes to get stuck in your teeth, don’t you?”

“Fuck off G-String, you dirty shirt-lifter.”

Leon diffused the tension. “Shirt-lifter? What is this, 1985? Now, who else wants a beer?”

The living room, Merlin had to admit, was pretty much the best place in town to watch a movie. There were two big leather couches, a bunch of squashy ottomans, a bright fluffy rug. Morgana, frustrated with Uther’s dour colour-scheme, had redecorated while he was away on a business trip in Singapore one year, and they were the remains of her influence. The television and sound setup, however, were all Arthur, with Uther’s money to back it.

Merlin padded to the linen closet in the hallway and raided it for a soft red duvet he favoured. He burrowed beneath it in the corner of one of the couches. Arthur settled himself at the other end, two beers in hand. Merlin took the extra one.

“You are such a girl, Merlin, you and your bloody duvets.”

Merlin smacked Arthur in the face with a throw pillow.

“Silence, plebs!” Percy called as the opening scene of Shaun of the Dead began. Elyan threw a crisp at his head.

Merlin had seen Shaun of the Dead about a hundred times already. He supposed it was good; it was gory and funny and there was a bit with Queen in it so he wasn’t complaining. But it sort of melted into the background whereas Arthur’s proximity to him was forefront in his mind.

Freya had exhorted him to confront Arthur about everything, but, well, first of all, she was a brash American and didn’t know the first thing about propriety, and second of all, every time he tried, he ended up getting ravished, and by that point he had sort of forgotten his original goal. They needed to talk about it though, because it had been going on for a month and it was getting excruciating in several different ways. It wasn’t just a Friday afternoon thing any more - Arthur had pulled him away from Gwen and Lance at lunch that Tuesday and sucked on his earlobes until Merlin had grabbed Arthur’s hand from his waist and pushed it down his pants.

Merlin was halfway through his second beer when Arthur started digging his feet under the edge of the duvet and poking him with his toes. Merlin kicked him. Arthur, already beginning to look a bit glassy around the eyes, just wriggled his feet in further and poked him again. It quickly devolved into a shoving match that only ended when Percy rounded on them, a thunderous look on his face, and hushed a hush worthy of their school librarian.

“Excuse us, Percy, it’s just that Arthur is being a twat.” Merlin primly spread the duvet out across the both of them, smoothing it with sweeps of his hand.

By the time Merlin had started his third beer, Arthur was at it again. This time, however, he began by sliding his foot up under the hem of his pyjama bottoms and drawing circles on his ankles. Merlin pulled his knees up, glaring at him, but Arthur just smirked and took another sip of his beer.

“Look at the bedroom eyes on Shaun!” Gwaine said, “Christ, Pegg and Frost totally used to fuck each other, I swear. Percy, didn’t they live together?”

Lance groaned and threw a pillow in Gwaine’s face. “Shush! This is the best part.” Lance, funnily enough, was an enormous lover of gory horror films. He and Gwen regularly had marathons where they watched the goriest movies in their collections together. Gwen said it was a trade-off, that Lance would watch her historical romances in exchange, but Merlin knew she liked the blood and guts too.

Arthur had settled down on the couch so that his feet were tucked in against Merlin’s hip. He’d eventually stopped trying to kick Merlin and tipped his head back against the arm of the couch, exposing a patch of stubble he’d missed the last time he’d shaved. Merlin didn’t know if it was that, or the beer, or the fact that they’d spent an entire afternoon together without getting each other off, but he felt a surge of something that wasn’t quite nausea and squeezed Arthur’s big toe. It was a bad idea, given that Arthur was even more ridiculous when he was drunk, but instead of yelping in mock pain or kicking him again, he just curled his toes over Merlin’s hand.

Normally he wouldn’t touch Arthur’s toes with a ten-foot barge pole, but he’d had a shower when they’d first got back, and his feet were warm and dry against his wrist. When they were boys and just starting to get hair in strange places, Arthur had once shoved his feet in Merlin’s face. “Look! I’ve got hair on my _toes_!” It should have been rather revolting, but Merlin secretly liked the fact that Arthur had hobbit feet. Not that he’d tell him, or that he’d appreciate the reference, but there it was all the same.

The last ten minutes of Shaun of the Dead passed as Merlin wiggled each of Arthur’s toes in turn and stuck his fingers between them.

By the time the credits rolled, Merlin had one leg hanging over the edge of the couch and the other tangled in Arthur’s, who was rubbing circles into Merlin’s calf with his foot. Merlin still had his hand tucked around the foot pressed into his hip, and Arthur would occasionally scrabble his toenails against his palm.

“When’d you last clip your claws, you freak of nature?” Merlin whispered, scratching the arch of Arthur’s foot.

Percy flicked the lights on. “I’m starting Hot Fuzz in fifteen minutes, alright, so don’t dick about in the kitchen, yeah?”

Leon shot him a specious look. “You need to get out mate, seriously.” He produced his phone, and began texting furiously.

“Whatever, I’m going for a slash.” Gwaine slouched off in the opposite direction to the bathroom.

Merlin rolled his shoulders and blinked in the light. “Um, you might want to see where he’s off to, he’s probably looking for your dad’s booze.”

“Shite!” Arthur flicked back the duvet and hurried after him.

Merlin enjoyed a few moments of quiet once Elyan declared a need for more crisps and Lance had followed. He stretched out along the couch, bending back and popping his spine with great relish. He was all splayed out atop the duvet when Arthur returned. “You catch Gwaine before he drank all the Damrak?”

Arthur raked his eyes up Merlin’s torso, lingering a moment where Merlin’s hand scratched idly at the trail of hair below his navel.

“Wa-what? Oh. Yeah, Father bought a better lock since last time. He’s sucking down a fag out the back.”

“Ah.”

Arthur watched as Merlin yawned and stretched his back again.

“So’re you gonna shove over or what?”

“Getcher own couch, Spendy.” Merlin kicked Arthur in the knee, which was another bad idea, because he retaliated by leaping on top of Merlin with a bounce.

“This _is_ my own couch.”

Merlin let out an “oof” and then pulled an arm out from between them. “What’s that one over there, then?” he asked, pointing across the coffee table.

“Oh no, I prefer this one. ‘Smore comfortable.” Arthur wriggled to emphasise the point. Merlin was feeling rather flustered by the proximity of his face, given that, in any other circumstance, they’d be licking each other’s teeth by now.

He managed to move out from under Arthur without any crucial parts coming into contact and pressed himself into the back of the couch. For god’s sake, at the very least, they could get themselves under the duvet before someone came back. After a couple minutes of tussle they managed to settle into something that resembled more “friendly” and less “foreplay”, with Merlin’s left foot under Arthur’s thigh and his right dangling off the cushions. Merlin hastily threw the duvet over them again as Lance and Elyan were herded out of the kitchen by Percy, balancing precarious and comically large sandwiches.

“Do we have any food left for breakfast, at least?” Arthur’s tone did nothing to give away the fact that he had a foot pressed up against Merlin’s balls.

“Gwaine!” Percy hollered, “Hurry the fuck up! The movie’s starting!”

“I give not a single fuck, mate!” came Gwaine’s voice from down the hall.

Leon let out a peal of laughter. Elyan shot him a curious look. “Just a text from my friend at uni ... don’t worry.”

Percy huffed and switched the lights off as Gwaine settled back against the other couch. Just as the movie started, Merlin felt Arthur’s foot move and sat bolt upright.

“Y’right there Merlin?” Leon asked. The foot slithered down to his knee and Merlin let out a long breath.

“Yeah, ‘salright. Just thought I heard my phone ring.” He could see Arthur’s toothy grin in the light of the telly.

They quieted down to watch Martin Freeman and Bill Nighy fire Simon Pegg in the most British way possible.

About ten minutes in, Merlin felt Arthur wriggle again, and a foot began working its way up the inside of Merlin’s thigh. Merlin caught it, but Arthur only waggled his foot in a friendly manner against his hand and rubbed another circle against his thigh.

Danny had finally succeeded in asking Nicholas Angel out on their first date to the pub when Merlin felt Arthur’s foot inch higher, moving up his leg until his toes curled into the crease of Merlin’s hip. Christ. Lance was leaning against the front of the couch, his head only inches away. Arthur surely wouldn’t, not here, but Merlin could see him smiling again with hooded eyes, and Arthur’s foot moved to nudge against his cock.

He didn’t move at first, just kept watching Pegg and Frost share a tender moment over pints, but the feel of it there was enough to make Merlin’s cock start swelling. He kept it there until Merlin was well past halfway hard and starting to sweat under his t-shirt. He met Merlin’s stunned gaze and began to move his foot in short, deliberate strokes. It wasn’t anything near as good as his hand, but with everyone else right there, the tension between them more than made up for it. Merlin shifted his hips.

Arthur caught one of the buttons down the fly between his toes and gave it a tug. Half disbelieving his own actions, Merlin flicked it open, and with another nudge from Arthur, undid the second. Of course, _Arthur’s_ pyjamas would allow for easy access. He should have packed a bag. Arthur worked his foot into the opening and Merlin bit his tongue to keep from groaning aloud.

“Is there any beer left?” Elyan asked.

Lance bent away from the couch to rummage in the cooler box they’d placed on the floor. “Leon, you tight bastard, we have run out of beer and I am not even barely tipsy,” he complained.

“You arseholes only gave me ten quid!”

Gwaine scooted across his couch. “Well if Arthur’d break into the booze cabinet for us, we’d be fucking set.”

Arthur looked up at the sound of his name, easing his foot off Merlin’s cock. Merlin tipped his head back and drew in a shaky breath. He was too tipsy to care if it looked odd. He was that close to coming in his pants, in front of five of his best mates, and he wasn’t sure what was worse: that or getting blue-balls if Arthur stopped entirely. He gave his balls a quick tug while Arthur was distracted.

“Abso-fucking-lutely not. Last time Gwaine vommed in sitting room all over the velvet settee. Do you know how much shit I was in for that?”

“Considering Uther banished me from your house for the rest of the year, I’ve an idea. At least tell me I can have a bottle of the cheap wine, Arthur.”

Percy threw his hands into the air. “Shut. Up. You nattering _fuckfaces_!”

“You can afford to replace the ones on the bottom of the wine rack,” Arthur conceded, blatantly ignoring Percy, and Gwaine vaulted over the back of the couch with distinct purpose. As he spoke, he pushed his foot back up against the hard shape of Merlin’s cock, toeing the wet patch he found there. Merlin shuddered.

Arthur arched his foot into the curve of Merlin’s erection, very gently grinding his heel into the base to nudge against his balls. Fucking hell. He was going to come and it was going to be in front of five of his best friends. If they _knew_ , if they fucking _saw_ him... He lifted the duvet up with his knees to stop it rustling as Arthur’s movements pushed his foreskin back and forth.

Gwaine returned, two glasses in each hand and a bottle under either arm, the neck of a third between his teeth. By that point, Merlin’s thighs were trembling.

Arthur suddenly drew his knees up to his chest and demanded a glass of wine in a drunk, entitled sort of way, leaving Merlin squirming for some source of friction.

“Merlin?” Lance was looking at him with a concerned expression, “are you alright? You look like you’re going to be sick or something.”

The wine sloshed over the edge of the glass as Arthur took a large gulp and ducked his feet back under the covers.

“N-no!” Merlin’s voice broke as Arthur brushed up against his cock. Gwaine was still distributing large glasses of chablis, even Percy wasn’t paying close attention to the film, and Merlin would have kicked Arthur if he didn’t want to come so badly. He grabbed Arthur’s ankle and lifted his hips up against the pressure.

Everyone else finally settled down to watch Pegg have a shoot-out in the middle of the village square, and before he quite realised what was happening, Merlin was coming hot and wet against the sole of Arthur’s foot.

He panted as quietly as he could manage as Arthur _deliberately_ wiped his foot off on Merlin’s stomach. He was suddenly grateful for growing up in a house with paper-thin walls - if he hadn’t had years to practice keeping quiet, there’d be no way he could have come without alerting the rest of them, gunfire regardless. Once he was capable of standing without visibly shaking, he wrapped the duvet around himself. “Kitchen!” he declared.

Arthur stood up too (rather awkwardly, Merlin was pleased to note). “Anyone else want anything?” he asked, suddenly a good host as Merlin scuttled out with the duvet around his shoulders.

Everyone’s eyes were facing the television, caught up in the end of the movie. Percy shushed them absently.

He had to change. He couldn’t wear come-stained pyjamas hanging out with the guys. Merlin walked up the stairs as quickly as he could without giving himself away. But, fuck! If he came back into the living room wearing new clothes there would be _questions_. Fucking Gwaine and his insatiable curiosity about everything that nobody needed to know! And if he didn’t come back with more snacks...

Small favors, he thought to himself, as he creaked open the door to the rarely-used upstairs kitchen. Arthur’s house was absurd. There was even a dumb waiter bricked up in the walls, too. Merlin ran the tap and chugged a glass of water, suddenly thirsty. He found a tea towel crumpled behind the sugar canister and started to scrub himself up. It was probably a futile effort. If anybody asked, and he knew they fucking _would_ , because they were all insatiable gossips, he’d make up some shit about being too drunk to carry drinks and snacks at the same time.

He was still wiping himself off when Arthur padded into the kitchen, looking pink and dishevelled. Merlin threw the cloth at his face.

“What the fuck was that about?”

Arthur swayed a bit, forward and back, his eyes locked on Merlin’s wet pyjamas. “Wha-?”

“Is that what you like, huh? Do you get off on making me - _come_ ,” he hissed, “in front of _everyone_?”

Merlin’s eyes flicked down to Arthur’s crotch, where his erection bulged against his trousers. “Clearly, you fucking do. Jesus.”

Arthur rubbed the back of his head, a bit sheepish. The muscles in his arm flexed, smooth and powerful, and Arthur was oblivious to what he was doing to Merlin entirely.

“This is _so_ fucked up,” Merlin declared, and pushed a dumbfounded Arthur up against the old white fridge. He tasted like cheap chablis and beer and crisps. Arthur grunted a little and moved so the handle didn’t dig into his back, curving his hand around to cup Merlin’s neck.

“Merlin. Merlin,” Arthur was mumbling against his mouth, “shit Merlin, we have to go back downstairs, they’re gonna wonder-”

“Oh, like they might have wondered what the hell was happening in there before?” Merlin shoved him again, but it was halfhearted, and he let Arthur reflexively shove him back.

“Think we’ve got s’more crisps hidden...” Arthur trailed away, like he’d forgotten everything already, to rummage in the pantry. He produced two bags of something with questionable expiry dates and opened one up, eating them mindlessly. “Wan’ some?” he held the bag up to Merlin’s face and shook it.

Merlin sighed. “Fine”, he grumbled, and grabbed a handful of crisps, “we’ll wait till it’s over then.”

They listened for the sound of the end credits, feeding each other crisps and snogging a bit whenever Arthur got distracted by Merlin’s salty fingers.

When they got back to the living room, they found Gwaine passed out on their couch, cradling a bottle to his chest. The DVD had gone back to the menu screen and no-one seemed to have noticed. Leon was gone, probably off to text his mystery girlfriend again.

“We can’t just leave them there,” Merlin gestured to Gwaine, who was dripping wine onto an unconscious Lance on the floor.

Arthur blinked hazily for a moment, then made a strange expression, which Merlin recognized as his idea-face. He swayed down the hall and returned a moment later with the contents of the closet - armfuls of pillows and blankets. He began to distribute them on top of his snoring friends.

When Arthur dropped a floppy cushion on Percy’s head, he sat up with a “ _mgah_?” and seized the remote control. “Commentaries!” he shouted, and paged through to the bonus options.

Merlin found headphones in a drawer in the coffee table and plugged them in; plopped them next to Percy’s knees.

“Ssssshhh!” Percy hissed at him. “This’s the one wiv Tarantino!”

Arthur grabbed Merlin by his damp t-shirt and pulled him towards the stairs. The second his bedroom door closed, he turned Merlin around by the shoulders and licked into his mouth. “C’mon Merlin,” he urged, rubbing his cock against Merlin’s hip, “fuck, I’ve been hard for _hours_ , you have no idea.” He began tugging on his grey tracksuit bottoms until they were halfway down his thighs.

Arthur stumbled back, pushing his trousers down as he went. “Even had a wank, you know, when I was in the shower and - oof!” he tripped over Merlin’s rucksack and caught himself on the edge of the desk. Merlin settled at the foot of Arthur’s bed, watching him hop around while he babbled on.

“- and then you were all stretched out and I could see your fucking hips and _fuck_ Merlin, do you even know what that does to me?” Arthur finally freed his legs with a kick. “Like in Lit the other day, you kept licking your lips and seriously, I haven’t gotten that hard in class since Willow came to PE without a bra on.” He was working an arm out of the sleeve of his hoodie as he spoke, exposing a stretch of smooth abdomen. The sight of it had Merlin’s cock stirring again.

He looked over at Merlin then, all glazed eyes and flushed cheeks. Arthur started on his buttons, fumbling under Merlin’s intent stare. “And you know those bloody chocolate bars you eat, fuck - every fucking time, I swear, every - _argh_! Bloody buttons!” He gave up trying to undo them and grabbed the hem of his school shirt. He got stuck halfway, with his hands flapping around his head. There was a pause and Arthur gave up, his shoulders slumping. “Merlin, I’m stuck. Get it off me.”

Merlin was smacked in the head with a flailing arm as he attempted to unfasten Arthur’s shirt. “Just keep still, you wanker.”

“Did it in the shower, y’know, an’ you di’n’t even notice.”

Merlin chuckled. “I thought about it though.”

“Really?” Arthur sounded pleased.

“Yeah.” He let out a shaky breath and pushed the shirt over Arthur’s head.

Arthur’s hair was sticking up in tufts. “Hello.”

Merlin rolled his eyes and kissed him.

When Arthur drank wine he tended to get verbose. In his current state, he was releasing an incoherent litany of increasingly elaborate plans to get each other off, not stopping despite Merlin’s best efforts.

Merlin tried kissing him on the mouth again but he just kept _talking_ so he trailed down to his jaw and dug his fingers into Arthur’s arms, kneading the muscles there.

“Wan’ you to come in every room of th’house... an’ at badmin’n... an’ in Leon’s van, and...”

Merlin pressed a leg between Arthur’s and grabbed him closer, stepping backwards, and sucked a mark onto his chest.

“Even want it when you eat m’sandwiches... I wanna feed ‘em to you an’ jerk you off in the common room.” Arthur seemed to conclude as Merlin manoeuvred them across the floor.

They appeared to have found the bed. Merlin pushed him down, but Arthur grabbed his hips as he fell and pulled Merlin down with him.

“Hrm. It _is_ comfortable.” Merlin wriggled in Arthur’s lap. The movement made his cock catch against Arthur’s and they both shuddered.

Arthur pawed drunkenly at his pyjamas. “Get these off.” He sucked Merlin’s bottom lip into his mouth, sliding his palms under Merlin’s shirt.

They snogged for another minute, until Arthur tugged on his clothes petulantly again. “Take’m off, c’mon.”

Merlin stripped down to his underpants in record time, somehow managing to not stop kissing Arthur for more than a few seconds. He clambered back on top of Arthur, who immediately slid his fingers down the back of Merlin’s pants, squeezing as he lifted his hips.

Arthur’s palms were hot against his arse, fingers spread wide enough to span from hip to cleft, digging in. He felt breathless and drunk; all of Arthur’s skin under and around him made him bubble over with want. He wanted to feel Arthur’s cock on his own, wanted to rub up against him until he came. Merlin set his teeth down on Arthur’s shoulder and rolled his hips, letting the motion drag his pants down along the back of Arthur’s hands.

“Oh _fu_ -” Arthur panted as Merlin rolled his hips again, the head of his cock poking out the top of his pants and smearing Arthur’s belly with pre-come.

Merlin’s pants were pulled halfway down his arse, but Arthur was too far gone to take them off any further, so he rolled them down and kicked them off his ankles. Arthur sat up in surprise at the loss of his squirming lapful, but Merlin just yanked Arthur’s pants off before he had time to do more than open his mouth.

Arthur’s gaze went immediately to his cock, where it lay against the dark thatch of hair between his pale thighs. They hadn’t turned the lights off. A thrill ran though Merlin’s body, seeing Arthur watch him as he climbed back on the bed, licking his lips distractedly as he raked his eyes up and back down again.

Merlin was back on top of him in a second, knocking Arthur’s hand aside when he reached out for Merlin’s cock. He settled around Arthur’s hips again, moving until their cocks were nestled together between them. Arthur cursed and canted up into it, sending a hot spike of arousal down the insides of his legs.

It felt base, rutting together as they were, without arms and clothes and bedsheets in the way. Every hitch of Arthur’s hips between his legs felt like a flash of heat and he kept making noises, little whimpery gasps into Arthur’s hair. He’d never done it with a girl, but apart from Arthur’s distinctly masculine form, this was a lot more what he’d thought sex would be like than anything else he’d done.

Their cocks worked together, slotting velvet and hot in the crevices that formed when Arthur's hands tightened around his hips and dragged Merlin smoothly up and down. Merlin steadied himself with a hand on the side of Arthur's neck, felt the slickness of their pre-come and the rasp of their hair against each other. His skin felt flushed, prickling under Arthur’s hands.

Merlin barely noticed Arthur coming, just felt the sudden wetness between them and a drawn out moan against his cheek. He sank back into the pillows, let his hands drag across Merlin’s thighs as he climbed a little higher to work himself against the sticky patch, and smear it into Arthur’s skin. It only took a minute more and then Merlin was coming, up along Arthur’s sternum, panting against his lips as he rode out the aftershocks.

He collapsed face-down in the sheets beside Arthur, content to let the afterglow lull him to sleep.

“Mngh, don’ pass out on me, you idiot.” Arthur lazily smacked him on the bum. Merlin grunted.

Arthur extricated himself from under the sprawl of Merlin’s limbs and disappeared into his bathroom. He returned a minute later, rolled Merlin onto his back and began to methodically wipe down his stomach with a towel.

“You lazy bastard. I made you come twice today and I have to clean you up as well?” He tipped Merlin’s knees apart to clean off his thighs. Merlin hummed contentedly and Arthur pressed a kiss to the soft skin near his hips. “Grotty little pervert.”

“Oi!” Merlin cracked an eye open to glare down at him. “I made you come twice; you were totally thinking of me in the shower. I didn’t even have to do anything.”

The mattress shifted and a second later Merlin’s pants landed on his head.

“Never said I was thinking of you. Could’ve been thinking of your mum.”

“Whatever, you were thinking of my face.”

“Oh, and by your face you mean your arse?”

Merlin didn’t respond to that, just pulled his pants up and waited for Arthur to get the lights. When he came back in the dark, he curled himself into Merlin’s side and wriggled back a bit. “Hrmm,” he mumbled, “y’r th’best fuck buddy ever.”

* * *

 _Friday April 15th, 2011, 20:23_

 **new message from: Dagger**   
` miss u wish u were here lik last week`

 **compose message**   
` miss u 2. g thinks ur my mum. a+m appear 2 b cuddling`

 **new message from: Dagger**   
` y r u w/ him and not me? omg, r they makin out yet?`

 **compose message**   
` perc wants a lads nite. wtf? srsly? they r just friends`

 **new message from: Dagger**   
` woteva he makes lunch 4 him. every day`

 **compose message**   
` theyve dun tht 4 yrs`

 **new message from: Dagger**   
` a has wanted him 4 yrs. srsly, put m in a dress and hell b all ovr him`

 **compose message**   
` m in a dress?? mite look betr thn u XOXO`

 **new message from: Dagger**   
` well if ur that hard up`

 **new message from: Dagger**   
` w8 no id cut ur balls off`

 **compose message**   
` wldnt dream of it luv`

 **compose message**   
` thyr ttly idk.... cuddling neway`

 **new message from: Dagger**   
` OMG! lik wot?`

 **compose message**   
` unda a blanket, idk m seems sick?`

 **compose message**   
` lol g is drinkin al the wine. gonna go broke whn big spendy finds out`

 **new message from: Dagger**   
` OMG NO1CURR WAT OF A/M?`

 **compose message**   
` idk they left`

 **new message from: Dagger**   
` FOLLOW THEM!!!!`

 **compose message**   
` OMG i jst saw them nekN! am now blind.`

 **new message from: Dagger**   
` PICS OR IT DIDNT HAPPEN`

 **New MMS**   
` C?`

  
 **INCOMING CALL FROM DAGGER**

* * *

Merlin awoke to the heavenly scent of bacon and a face-full of blond hair.

He pushed Arthur in the back and he didn’t even grunt. “Get up get up, move your fat arse, there’s breakfast.”

Arthur groaned and put a pillow over his head. “Merlin, Merlin am I dead? I think I might be actually dying. Are your eyeballs also made of acid?” His voice came muffled from the sheets.

“Oh, grow a pair,” Merlin grumbled, sorting through the bedside cabinet for Arthur’s paracetamol. He pulled out an old ipod, a great tome named _Ask Bearders: Answers to the World's Most Challenging Cricket Questions_ and a half-empty bottle of lube before finding the squashed white box of panadol. He took two himself and shoved the box at Arthur.

He began retrieving items of clothing from Arthur’s floor. He found his come-crusted pants under a pillow and immediately flicked them towards the laundry basket. He’d been wearing them when they first went to sleep, but Arthur got a bit handsy in the wee hours of the morning and they got pulled off again. The question now was: go commando or find an alternative? Arthur was still hidden under the bedsheets, so he nicked a clean pair of Arthur’s pants. They were bright red and a bit baggy, but they served.

When they finally slouched downstairs, they followed their noses to the kitchen where all their friends were clustered around the counter.

“Good morning, son! Merlin.” Uther nodded in their direction. “Have a bit of a lie-in, did we?”

Sometimes Uther did this. He would be stuck in the city, sleeping in the pull-out couch in his office, for the end of the work week, and return Saturday mornings with plans to cook breakfast. He was wearing a striped apron that read “Kiss the Cook” and everything. Merlin supposed that Uther must look at it a bit like getting to play house.

Arthur just groaned and buried his head beneath his arms, rubbing his cheek on the cold marble counter top.

“Yo! M-dawg!” Merlin squinted. Apparently the greeting had come from Leon, who was holding up a carafe of orange juice with a fixed grin on his face. “You want some OJ?”

“Er... thanks, um... Le-le?”

“No probs!” Leon handed him a glass and turned to Percy. “Perce-snatcher? Juice it up?”

Percy, looking grey-faced and still wearing half his uniform, took the offered glass with a cringe. Gwaine practically lunged at Leon for the carafe. “What is up with the names, mate?”

“What d’you mean G-spot? You _started_ it.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I’m the cool one. What are you, forty this year?”

Uther watched the exchange closely and clapped Arthur around the shoulder. “How about a cup of tea, A-frame?”

Arthur turned to him, incredulous. Elyan snorted juice up his nose and had to be thumped on the back. Uther took in Arthur’s bloodshot eyes and rounded on Gwaine. “How much of my wine did you drink young man?”

Gwaine didn’t even flinch. “Only a bottle. Of the cheap stuff.”

Lance, who was a bastard who could not tell a lie, held up three fingers behind Gwaine’s back. Uther pursed his lips.

“Mister Pendragon, the bacon’s burning,” Merlin hastily pointed out.

* * *

From: ponderoustibbons@gmail.com  
To: supermeowpants@gmail.com  
Date: Sat, 16 April, 2011  
subject Mission Failure

No, still haven’t talked to him about it. Instead we have progressed to mid-level exhibitionism. Arthur IS A JERKWAD. Also his pants do not fit me properly. Don’t ask. Too hungover. Will provide details when brain is not leaking out ears.

~M-dawg  
PS: don’t ask about that either

* * *

From: supermeowpants@gmail.com  
To: ponderoustibbons@gmail.com  
Date: Sat, 16 April, 2011  
Subject: RE: Mission Failure

PANTS???? LIKE UNDERPANTS BRITISH PANTS OR LIKE JEANS PANTS. WHAT. EVEN. YOU ARE BOTH SEX MANIACS.

I DONT CARE IF YOU SAY DONT ASK. I MUST HAVE JUICY DEETS OR I WILL PHOTOSHOP FAKE ONES AND PUT THEM ONLINE.

I still have that sext you tried to send me once, with your shirt off? I have materials, okay? That’s all I’m saying.

-Freya  
PS: okay, that, I won’t ask about...

FIN.


End file.
